


Brutality

by Arcaya



Category: Hannibal (TV), The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Battle Royale Fusion, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Battle Royale - Freeform, Drama, Gen, Hannigram - Freeform, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaya/pseuds/Arcaya
Summary: Hannibal/Hunger Games AU. Will Graham has been chosen to compete in the Nation's 52nd annual Blood Games and his fear of death combined with rumours of the infamous past contestants Hannibal Lecter and the Verger Twins competing alongside him has him feeling a little less than enthusiastic about slaughtering people on national television.





	1. Chapter 1

“…and then after that it gets easier. I know it sounds cliché but it’s true. It gets easier with time, it really does. This is my third time in the Games now and honestly, a couple years ago I would have never said this, but, you get used to it. The fear of death, the trauma of seeing it all. You do. And…Will? Are you even listening to me?”

  
Alana Bloom turned in her seat, glancing over at Will Graham as he stared out of the train window in a seemingly vacant daze.

  
“Will?” she repeated. “Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here.”

  
Will snapped out of his daze and brought his attention back to his childhood friend.

  
“What? I’m sorry, I just…”

  
“I get it, you’re nervous,” she smiled. “Of course you are. This is your first time in the Games, why wouldn’t you be?”

Will blinked, eyebrows beginning to knit into a confused frown.

  
“Alana, how can you be so…so casual about this? We’re on our way to some place, some fucking battlefield or whatever the hell it is, to kill each other. Don’t you understand that? And you’re acting like we’re on our way to a public speaking event or something. How do you do that?”

  
She laughed, placed a hand on Will’s shoulder and squeezed.

  
“Oh, Will. How long have you known me? You must understand this is how I deal with everything. I’ve faced the Games twice already and won, you know? My positive attitude is what keeps me going. Something has to.”

  
Will swallowed, shaking his head.

  
“And what if…what if it came down to it, and you had to kill me?”

  
Alana smiled. “Will, I wouldn’t so much as hurt a pretty curl on her head. We’ve known each other since we were six years old.”

  
Will considered pointing out the rules of the Games, the absolute necessity of at least one of their deaths. But he knew Alana knew that as well as anyone. Of course she did. Her optimism was a willing cloud of denial.

  
“How does it not drive you insane, being called back for the third time?” he asked after a while.

She shrugged.

  
“Well, I don’t have much of a say in it, do I? The viewers have their favourites, and we all know the Games pander to that. Guess I must have really brought in the ratings the past couple of times.”

  
Will suppressed a wince. Listening to his childhood friend talk about something like the Games with such nonchalance was a bizarre and uncomfortable experience to say the least.

  
“Come on, Will, don’t give me that look. I only ever killed one person. And you know I didn’t have a choice…” Alana said, raising an eyebrow as she clocked the expression on his face.

Will sighed.

  
“And what if it comes down to it and it’s just the two of us?” he asked. “Will you still feel like you have a choice then?”

  
Alana frowned.

  
“Look, Will, I know you’re scared. But it’s not going to be how you think it is. We’re going to be a team, you and I. We’re not fighting against each other and the viewers will love that. If we stick together, I’m certain they’ll spare us both. I mean, it’s happened before. Remember the Verger twins?”

  
Will nodded. How could he forget? The Verger twins had been the stars of last year’s Games. And what a gory, sadistic game it had been. The worst part of all of it had been the final stand-off once all the other contestants had been brutally slaughtered. Mason Verger had been completely willing to kill his twin sister Margot on national television. And it seemed the Capital had taken no issue with this either, following the pair along a cat-and-mouse chase through the forest for over three hours. Margot’s temper had finally boiled over, the nation on the edge of their seats as they watched her finally emerging from the trees to greet her brother, crossbow aimed at his chest. Unfortunately for her, they’d been declared joint winners before she could fire the shot.

  
“We’re nothing like the Vergers,” Will dismissed Alana’s suggestion bluntly.

  
“Maybe not,” Alana persisted. “But maybe we could be the heroic version. No killing unless necessary, that’s our rule, right?”

  
“Right.” Will wasn’t feeling particularly reassured, but he forced himself to smile and nod anyway.

  
They sat in silence for the next ten minutes or so, the train speeding on towards their destination. Finally, Alana set down the newspaper she’d been reading and looked back to Will.

  
“So, do you think the rumours are true?” she asked. “Do you really think he’s going to be a contestant again?”

  
“Who?” Will asked, suddenly feeling his chest tighten at the ominous ‘he’ in question.

  
“You haven’t heard the rumours?” Alana raised her eyebrows. “Have you been under a rock since you were selected? Everyone’s talking about it.”

  
“Well, forgive me for being somewhat distracted these past few weeks,” Will muttered. “Who are you talking about, exactly?”

  
“The Silver Stag, Will,” Alana replied, wide eyed. “…Hannibal Lecter.”

Will’s blood ran cold at the very mention of the name, his heart momentarily skipping a beat.

“The…the Silver Stag…but that was…he was…”

“Twenty years ago, I know,” Alana replied. “But the rumours are rife.”

Will had been ten years old when the Silver Stag had captivated the nation’s viewers with a mixture of horror and awe. Lecter had been a young man then, a silver haired kid no more than twenty-five. He’d entered the Games as a Region 2 contestant, alongside his teenage sister Mischa. Will remembered the 32nd Blood Games vividly, watching as the then unknown Lecter had strived for three whole days to protect his sister. But fate had another plan for the Lecter siblings, it seemed. On the fourth day, Mischa had been hit with a poison dart by an unknown assailant. Audiences around the world had felt Lecter’s pain as he held his dying sister in his arms, screaming in anguish as she drew her last breath. But that wasn’t what the Silver Stag had garnered his infamy from.

“…removed every limb whilst his sister’s killer was still alive…” Alana was saying, snapping Will back into reality. “Terrifying. You know it was so graphic they had to take the Games off air temporarily?”

“Well, that guy did murder his sister,” Will found himself responding automatically.

“Seriously, Will?” Alana frowned. “And what was Lecter’s excuse for disembowelling, decapitating, and mutilating the other five before he got to the culprit?”  
Will had no response.

“All I’m saying is we need to be prepared,” she continued. “Because if Lecter is in the Games, we need to be ready, we need to know how to fight back.”  
Will had no response, his attention returning to the train window shortly after. He attempted to calm his nerves as he watched the countryside speed by, realising his entire body was now shaking. He had one week. Just one week at the training centre. One week before the Games, and one week before certain death. In this moment, Will Graham had never felt so alone.


	2. Chapter 2

At first glance, the training centre resembled more of a high-end hotel than anything else. Luxurious marble flooring, chandeliers, and plush furniture filled the lobby as Will and Alana hauled their suitcases across to the reception desk, and Will couldn’t help but come to the nauseating realisation that the luxury surroundings had likely been designated in order to placate the contestants’ fear of their impending demises.

“We’re the District Four contestants,” Alana informed the receptionist as she reached the lobby desk.

“Oh, yes, yes I know who you are,” the timid receptionist gushed, all but beaming as she set eyes on Alana. “Alana Bloom, right? I’m sorry, but I have to tell you, I’m a huge fan. Really I am.”

“Well, thank you sweetie, I’m glad to know someone’s rooting for me,” Alana smiled, taking the room keys from the receptionist.

“Everyone else is in the function room just up the stairs,” the receptionist informed her, eyes still fixed on Alana. “Be safe, Miss Bloom, won’t you?”

“Don’t you worry, I will be,” Alana assured her, before heading in the direction of the staircase.

“That girl, she was practically _starstruck,”_ Will said as he caught up with Alana on the stairs. ”Did you notice that? Do these people not realise what the Games are about?  I mean, it’s in the title for God’s sake. Does everyone out there in the Capital think it’s some sort of soap opera for them to gawp at?”

Alana shrugged.

“I get it a lot. People want somebody to root for, I guess.”

As they climbed the steps, the sound of muffled shouting could be heard from behind the large oak doors of the function room.

Will froze.

“Alana, I can’t do this,” he breathed, the shouting once again reminding him this was _real_ , this was happening, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Yes, you can,” Alana said softly, wrapping her hand around his and squeezing.

Will sighed and closed his eyes, thankful for the comforting warmth of another human being’s touch. It had been a long time since he’d desired such a thing. Impending death was a good enough explanation, he supposed.

Alana pushed the function room doors open and the two of them were met with a vast, ostentatious room that seemed as if it had been plucked from a Victorian period drama. Five people had already congregated in various spots around the room, a red haired woman and a dark haired man sat by the bar, while a pale, dark haired girl sat hunched in a lounge chair. All of their eyes were directed towards the culprits of the noise disturbance, a man and a woman stood in the middle of the room.  Will’s stomach flipped as he set eyes on the pair. He took in the man’s messy blonde hair and the woman’s large eyes, their defiant glare, realising with increasing anxiety he had just set eyes upon the Verger twins in the flesh.

“Oh, fuck me,” Alana muttered. “Not these two. I’d hoped that had just been another rumour.”

“Come on Margot, there’s no need to be like that,” Mason Verger was laughing as his sister fixed him with a death stare, arms folded as she turned on her heel and attempted to walk away. This was to no avail, Mason reaching out and abruptly yanking her back in his direction. “Listen, Margot, don’t keep everyone waiting. It’s your turn to tell the room how we won, why we’re still here today. Make it fun, don’t spare any of the juicy bits—“

Margot’s stoic front was crumbling before the rest of the room’s eyes, her bottom lip trembling slightly and her eyes brimming with tears.

“Maaargot…” Mason continued to bait her.

“Mason, stop it!” Margot snapped finally, blinking back tears. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. I didn’t then, I don’t want to next week, and I sure as shit don’t want to talk about it!”

Mason burst into laughter, glancing around the room of bemused faces in the hopes of finding an equally sadistic ally.

“You hear that everyone? My sister’s _sure as shit_!” 

Margot made another move for the side of the room, but Mason’s fingers were already entwined in her hair before she could so much as take the first step. She yelped in pain as he jerked her head back. From across the room, Will noticed the dark haired girl gasp, cupping a hand over her mouth. Will took in the horror on the girl’s face and couldn’t help but imagine how short the poor thing’s time within the Games would likely be. As he looked away, he briefly met the gaze of the red-headed woman sat by the bar. She gave him an ambiguous, almost _flirtatious_ smile, before returning her attention back to what she clearly considered to be the evening’s entertainment.

“Now, Margot,” Mason was continuing, fist still coiled around his sister’s hair.  At this distance, Will could just about make out the silent tears running down Margot’s cheeks “I suggest you be a good girl and tell these nice people what you’re _really_ capable of…”

Will looked back to Alana, but she was staring on straight ahead. He wished she’d take his hand and tell him this was all going to be OK, but he wasn’t so sure he’d believe her even if she did. Right now, he wasn’t sure if he would survive the night under the same roof as these people, let alone survive on the battlefield next week.

“I’m counting to ten Margot. One…two…three…”

Just then, the doors behind Will and Alana swung open. Alana jumped, instinctively grabbing hold of Will’s arm and pulling him away from the doors. He’d have perhaps been appreciative of her protectiveness over him, were it not for the sight now in front of him. Standing there, just several feet away, was Hannibal Lecter, his tall, imposing form casting a shadow across the room as he stepped into it.

The room was silent now as they watched Lecter move across it. He walked slowly, taking in the surroundings, unreadable expression on his face. Not once did he take an interest in any other person in the room as he did this. The function room’s décor was infinitely more interesting than his fellow contestants, it seemed. He stopped once he reached the twins.

Mason’s grip had already loosened on Margot’s hair, and by the time Lecter reached them, he’d let go entirely, his fear betraying him.

“Well, if it isn’t the Silver Stag himself. Hannibal Lecter, am I right?’  Mason asked, putting his arm around Margot and trying his hardest to mask his own nerves.

Lecter ignored him, his attention turning to Margot.

“I would advise you to kill your brother first. You will stand a better chance,” Lecter said simply, before heading over in the direction of the pale dark haired girl. She stood up, and for a moment Will was convinced she was going to try to get as far away from Lecter as possible.

“Wait…” Alana whispered, as they watched her throw her arms around him. “They…they _know_ each other?”

“Well, I think we could all use a drink,” Mason announced to the room. “Margot, hold still, will you? Can’t have a martini without my special ingredient, now, can I?”

Alana frowned as she turned her attention back to the Vergers.

“He’s really doing that, isn’t he? He’s collecting her tears…for his drink…”

“Verger’s right,” Will muttered, finally having enough of watching the exhibition. “I need a drink.”


End file.
